


Six months ago...

by wonhoes



Category: GOT7
Genre: But like.. not really, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Markbeom, Markbum, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 06:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonhoes/pseuds/wonhoes
Summary: Jaebeom was never the one to handle rejection well, no matter what kind. He’d get insecure and flustered, cheeks heating up with his speech turning to coherent but cumbersome stuttering. It was either that, embarrassment, or anger. When he was mad, he singled out the person that had caused it to flare up, unofficially vowing to dislike them for the rest of his life.orMark ignores Jaebeom. Jaebeom does not like it.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Mark Tuan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Six months ago...

The suburbs of Goyang-si had always been known to look absolutely stunning in the summer. The city radiated a certain atmosphere. It felt serene, tranquil. Jaebeom loved his home. The sun always seemed to be shining a little brighter, the flowers were always a little more vibrant and the grass was always just a tad greener than anywhere else he’d been to. Being in and around his house had made him feel safe from the moment he had moved in, now nearly two years ago. 

He strode across his living room, bare feet tapping against laminate. When he reached the window, rays of sunlight were covering one side of his face, his features sketching dark shadows across the other. In the middle of the window sill laid his housemate, a grey ragdoll. She laid on her back, eyes closed and exposing her soft tummy to the sunlight. Jaebeom felt his lips twitch up into a smile as he looked down at the pet. He stroked the hair on her stomach, making her purr in content. Her eyes opened and stared at Jaebeom for a second before slowly closing them again. Jaebeom felt content. He remembered all the hours he had put into gaining her trust.

As he continued to pet his cat, he looked out of the window. A large moving truck was parked on his neighbor’s driveway. Jaebeom had seen the truck twice before. One would think it was the thing that caught his attention. However, even though the vehicle was massive and sometimes prevented sunlight from spilling into his living room, he couldn’t say it was half as distracting as the young man that led movers into and out of the house. 

Jaebeom hadn’t spoken to his new neighbor yet, opting to watch him from afar. His hair was a light shade of brown, which the Korean summer effortlessly turned into a dirty blonde. His lips were plump and his jaw was prominent. Jaebeom watched him as he carried a rather large box inside of the house next to him. He struggled a bit under its weight. Jaebeom couldn’t help but release a soft chuckle into the space, making his cat turn to look up at him. 

Jaebeom hadn’t seen the movers in about 40 minutes and figured they had left for the day. Still, the new occupant was working hard to get everything inside. The sun was setting, and golden hour was nearing. Jaebeom moved away from the window, carrying himself to his front door. He slid on a pair of slippers that had been thrown to the side of the door before making his way out. Before he left, though, he made sure to twist his keys to pop out the lock so the door couldn’t shut. He made his way to the neighbor’s house, taking his time so he could enjoy the mellow breeze that hung in the air. 

He stopped at his own mailbox, standing in front of it as he waited for his neighbor to leave the truck. When he did, Jaebeom’s face broke out into a kind expression. A light smile played on his lips and his eyes crinkled up at the ends. “Hey, do you need help with those?” He asked, voice matching his posture. The neighbor, who was carrying three smaller boxes this time, didn’t even spare him a glance as he made his way into his house again. Jaebeom followed him with his eyes. His tank top was hanging off his back, and Jaebeom could see droplets of sweat gathering at the other’s neck. When he had fully disappeared into the doorway, Jaebeom felt a sense of discomfort wash over him. His eyebrows furrowed together, watching the empty doorway of his new neighbor’s house.

Jaebeom felt his mood turn bitter. His day had been ruined. The idyllic bliss that had been bubbling in his chest before had turned into acid and before his neighbor could come out, he had already turned his back to the house. He took a few long strides towards his front door, still frowning. He twisted the key, unlocking the already opened door just so he could slam it shut behind him. When he walked into the living room again, his eyes landed on his cat. She looked startled by the noise, and Jaebeom felt bad for scaring her. It took him another second before he dropped himself on his couch, sighing deeply. 

Jaebeom was never the one to handle rejection well, no matter what kind. He’d get insecure and flustered, cheeks heating up with his speech turning to coherent but cumbersome stuttering. It was either that, embarrassment, or anger. When he was mad, he singled out the person that had caused it to flare up, unofficially vowing to dislike them for the rest of his life. Besides being sensitive to rejection, Jaebeom was also the stubborn type. The grudges he held were often ridiculously long, even if the thing that had angered him wasn’t worth it. He felt angry for his neighbor ignoring him and embarrassed for being ignored. 

The months after that day had consisted of minimal contact between the two. To be more specific, there had only been one other interaction between them. Jaebeom’s neighbor, whose name was Mark (as he had heard one of his movers call him), had tried approaching him a week after he had ignored Jaebeom. Jaebeom had seen him coming, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and running the other through his hair. Having noticed him, he felt prepared and so when Mark finally came to a halt in front of Jaebeom, the latter wouldn’t even give him a chance to explain himself, let alone speak at all. Mark opened his mouth, barely having uttered a syllable before Jaebeom raised one of his palms. “Save it,” he said, not giving his neighbor the time of day before he made his way across his lawn and into his house. He didn’t turn around to see the way Mark’s eyes widened in confusion.

Six months passed. Bright green had fallen off trees, their remainders long gone. The calm summer breeze was replaced by cold air racing through the city. The sun was in hiding, replaced by white specks falling from the sky. Winter in Goyang didn’t, and would never, compare to summer. Snow coating the streets would never be perfect. It would be stepped in, wet and translucent instead of white. Jaebeom loved snow. He remembered his family going to Norway to experience a real winter when he was seven years old. The snow was absolutely mesmerizing, and Jaebeom remembers the way his hands tingled when he had held onto a snowball for too long. He looked back to it fondly. 

Goyang hadn’t seen that kind of snow in his lifetime, so Jaebeom nearly jumped out of his window when he woke up to a field of untouched white laying in his front yard. It was the first day of his week long holiday off work, and as Jaebeom bent down to feel the snow, he considered it a miracle. 

He had spent that day sitting in his yard, drawing into the snow before rolling an already existing snowball through it. He felt seven years old again, content playing in the snow by himself. After a while, though, he felt his nose start to get runny. He decided he didn’t want to spend his week off being sick, and it took him a few minutes before he got off the ground.

That evening, he went to sleep rather quickly. He was never the one to sleep before midnight, but as he fell back onto his mattress at something past nine, he blamed it on the overtime he’d worked over the past few weeks.

He was pulled out of his slumber just five hours later, three mere hours away from a full night's sleep. He stared at his ceiling. It was pitch black, and he wondered what had woken him up. He could hear the wind whistle outside of his window, rattling it slightly. Jaebeom had never been a light sleeper, so he doubted it was what had woken him. He grabbed his phone off his bedside table, squinting his eyes as it lit up; 3:32 am. Jaebeom groaned, turning off the screen before putting it back in its place. He closed his eyes again, trying to fall asleep.

Five minutes later, all Jaebeom had achieved was getting annoyed by the sound of his own breathing. He threw his duvet off him in frustration before sitting up in his bed. His hair fell in front of his face; he let it sit. After a moment of Jaebeom feeling sorry for himself, he got out off his bed, slipping his feet into a pair of slippers. He quickly threw a hoodie over his naked torso, having felt goosebumps rise on his skin after discarding his duvet. He made his way down the stairs, dragging the palm of his hand along the wall for support. His kitchen and living room were illuminated by the streetlights shining through the windows. He shuffled over to his kitchen, deciding water would cure his restlessness. As he was filling up his glass, he noticed the sound of the wind. It was loud, untamed. He was surprised at how well he could hear it through his thick windows. He turned off the tap, making his way over to the window in the living room, sipping his water. 

He looked outside. To his surprise, the snow was still there. Its sleek surface had been ruined by Jaebeom earlier that day, but it hadn’t melted at all. Jaebeom didn’t have time to think about it for too long. A loud knock startled him, and he felt the glass he was holding slip through his fingers. It shattered onto the floor. Jaebeom stared at it for a second, looking at the way the water was traveling further and further away from the shattered glass on the floor. 

He made his way to the door without thinking it through, janking it open. Outside sat Mark, knees pulled to his chest in nothing but a t-shirt and some jeans. Mark’s eyes widened when he saw Jaebeom. “You- you opened,” he said in English. Jaebeom stared at him, bewildered at the foreign language. He quickly composed himself, though, holding out his hand for Mark to grab. Mark took it without hesitation.

As soon as their skin touched, Jaebeom had to resist the urge to hiss. Mark’s hand was freezing. It felt like the snow he had been playing with earlier. He pulled him inside with a little too much strength, surprised at how light the other was. His neighbor fell straight into his chest. Before he could really register what had happened, he was holding Mark by his waist, bodies flush against each other. 

It took a split second for Jaebeom to release him again, looking down at the floor for a second before facing Mark. He had only seen the other male up close once before, and that was six months ago. Mark’s teeth were clattering together uncomfortably. His hair had snow flakes in it, which matched the color of his skin. He held his body in a way that screamed fragile. Jaebeom felt the grudge towards his neighbor become weaker the longer he looked at him. “Wait here, I’ll get you something warm, okay?” Jaebeom spoke after a few seconds of silence. Mark was biting his lip, which was tinted blue, trying to stop his jaw from shaking as much as it did. He nodded his head, refusing to make eye contact. Jaebeom took a few big steps into the kitchen, turning on the water boiler. When he got back, he noticed Mark standing in front of the door still, looking uncomfortable. Jaebeom let out a small scoff at the other acting like that. He gently grabbed Mark’s arm, taking him by surprise as he pulled him to his couch. “Please make yourself at home,” Jaebeom said before letting go of him, moving upstairs. 

When he was back in his room, thrashing through his closet for a hoodie, he started to think. He wondered what Mark was doing at his door, at this time, in just a t-shirt. It also hit him that the only words Mark had spoken to him had not been in Korean. Now that Jaebeom was thinking about it, Mark didn’t really look like he was Korean at all. As he dug out an oversized, cream-colored hoodie, he mentally cursed himself for not realizing Mark was a foreigner. He quickly walked down the stairs. Mark was sitting on the couch stiffly, looking around in Jaebeom’s apartment. 

It was pretty basic, and honestly this could have been anyone’s house. Jaebeom liked a minimalistic interior. He handed Mark his hoodie, to which the latter whispered out a ‘thank you’ in Korean. It was accented. Jaebeom felt all of the negative feelings he had for his neighbor seep out of his body. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together to come to the realization that Mark had never understood Jaebeom all of those months ago. He had never purposely ignored him. Feeling his face heat up, he quickly made his way to the kitchen. He used the now boiled water to make a cup of tea.

When he returned, Mark was wearing his hoodie, rubbing his sleeve-covered hands against each other. He was not visibly shaking anymore, and Jaebeom felt relieved. He wordlessly put the cup of tea on the table in front of Mark before sitting in a chair opposite of him, looking at him. 

Later that night, Mark confessed he had been locked out of his appartement and that Jaebeom was one of the few people not abroad for holidays. His cheeks had reddened in the same fashion as Jaebeom’s earlier that night. And that is the story of how Mark managed to put an end to Im Jaebeom’s grudge against him.

**Author's Note:**

> that’s probably the shittiest ending i’ve ever written in my life... i’m sorry........ this was me attempting to practice descriptive writing
> 
> if u liked it please comment hehe i always get super happy whenever i someone’s liked my work <3


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